Rebel with a cause HILDA CAMPBELL

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Rebel with a cause
HILDA CAMPBELL
NURSING AT THE EDGE
For as long as she can remember Hilda Campbell has
been told that she cares too much. It has influenced
her childhood, affected her career, and shaped the
course of her life. But Hilda would have it no other way:
“Someone’s got to care, really care, for the people who
need it most,” she says. “I have had to leave the NHS to
be the nurse that I always wanted to be.”
Hilda heads a charity called COPE, which provides
support to people living in west Glasgow from its base
behind a pub in Drumchapel. Focusing on mental health,
health improvement, wellbeing and community capacitybuilding, COPE serves as a beacon of hope.
“I was literally rock-bottom, and I’m not joking when I say
that I wouldn’t be here now if it wasn’t for COPE,” says
former client Kathleen Robertson. “Three years ago I was
suicidal, unemployed, ashamed, and couldn’t see a future.
My GP said I was depressed and advised me to seek help. I
turned to my church, but they told me there was a 12-week
wait for counselling unless I could pay £40, which I didn’t
have. So one day I opened a bottle of pills. Only my dog
crying stopped me from taking them…”
Kathleen’s daughter heard about COPE and suggested that
her mother make contact. She is very glad that she did. “I
was offered an appointment the same day, and as soon as
I walked through the door I knew I was in the right place,”
says Kathleen. “Basically, I haven’t looked back since.”
Having received support from COPE therapists and
counsellors, and discovered relaxation and self-help
techniques, Kathleen started to recover. A former Army
training sergeant, she soon became a COPE volunteer,
and when a vacancy arose for a full-time administrator,
she leapt at the chance. “COPE is not just a place of work
“I can tell what they need
because I’ve been the person
at the other end of the ‘phone.
No-one ever has to wait to
get help here.”
KATHLEEN ROBERTSON
for me, it’s part of my family,” says Kathleen. “It’s built my
confidence, my self-esteem and my skills. There’s nothing I
won’t try now.”
These days, Kathleen is the first point of contact for
people in despair who call COPE. “I can tell what they
need because I’ve been the person at the other end of the
‘phone,” she says. “No-one ever has to wait to get help
here.”
For Hilda Campbell, that is the key to COPE’s successful
service. “The people we see here are at the end of
their tether – maybe it’s to do with suicidal thoughts,
bereavement, depression, drink, drugs, domestic violence
or just the daily challenges of living in poverty, but we turn
no-one away. If we can’t help we try to find someone else
who can,” she says. “COPE is the community’s self-made
safety net, and it works.”
Established in 1991 with Urban Aid funding, the then
Drumchapel Mental Health Consumer Enablement Project
started with a local survey. “One of the first things people
told us they wanted was to change the project’s name,
so it became COPE – Caring Over People’s Emotions,”
says Hilda. “They said they wanted the caring bit stressed
because that was what our service was centred around.”
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NURSING AT THE EDGE
“But we have a vision that life
doesn’t have to be so tough,
that there are new ways of
supporting people to find the
resilience to roll with life’s
punches.” HILDA CAMPBELL
hard to promote and protect patients’ dignity and rights,
taking on the establishment when necessary. When
she was turned down for a clinical nurse specialist post
because she “cared too much to be an effective nurse
manager”, she decided there had to be a better way of
following her heartfelt vocation.
Starting up COPE meant leaving the NHS, but Hilda is
still very proud to be a nurse. “My inspiration is Florence
Nightingale, who took on the system and transformed it,”
she says. “Some of us just aren’t cut out to blindly follow
orders.”
Now Hilda leads an organisation that is entirely responsive
to the needs of the people it serves. Its base, behind
Oliver’s Function Suite on Drumchapel Road, is in the
heart of a community that has just about the highest
deprivation and lowest life expectancy in the developed
world. COPE wants to change this.
Born in the East End of Glasgow, where her Burma
Campaign veteran father was a school janitor, Hilda
knows how hard it can be to survive and thrive in tough
circumstances. She has always been keenly aware of
the need for care: when she was eight her mother was
diagnosed with Lupus, and Hilda remembers wishing the
people at the hospital would be nice to her mum, and not
hurt her. Hilda lost her mother when she was 15.
Despite being bullied at school for being a ‘swot’, she
knew she wanted an education. In 1979 she went to
Glasgow Technical College to do a degree in social
sciences, where she discovered a passion for psychology.
In her honours year she wrote an essay about mental
illness that called for a person-centred approach, long
before its time. “I was told I’d passed even though
I’d given the department such a laugh with my ‘naïve
twaddle’,” says Hilda. “They said I cared too much ever to
be an effective clinical psychologist, so I went off to train
to become a psychiatric nurse.”
Once qualified Hilda specialised in care of the elderly
confused and mental health rehabilitation and she fought
Poverty – financial, of opportunity and ambition – is the
grinding norm here for many, and COPE makes regular
referrals to foodbanks. “But we have a vision that life
doesn’t have to be so tough, that there are new ways of
supporting people to find the resilience to roll with life’s
punches,” says Hilda. “What we do works. Those who use
COPE tell us that.”
They include local GPs such as Dr Peter Cawston, who
is a partner in the Drumchapel practice, one of the 100
‘Deep End’ general practices that serve the most socioeconomically deprived populations in Scotland. “COPE
is an organisation on which all the practices have relied
for many years, and which has proved a lifeline to our
patients,” he says. “None of the other options available to
us offer the kind of service they give. If COPE were lost to
patient care this would have a serious impact on some of
the most needy.”
There was a threat to COPE’s survival last year when NHS
Greater Glasgow and Clyde introduced new procurement
systems and removed its funding, instructing local GPs
to refer their patients elsewhere. “That was terrible for
people in distress. All the other mental health services in
the area that are NHS-approved have long waiting lists,
and we commit to seeing people within 10 days, or sooner
if there’s an emergency,” says Hilda. “But thankfully our
clients can self-refer and our reputation means that word
gets around. People know we are still here for them.”
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NURSING AT THE EDGE
“I describe COPE as being
like an onion. There’s no
core as such, but every layer
is important to make the
onion strong. Together, we
are making this community
stronger.” HILDA CAMPBELL
COPE continues to receive funding from Glasgow City
Council, supplemented by income that the charity
generates itself. “From the beginning we have reported
to the council, for which I am very grateful,” says Hilda.
“I understand them and what they are trying to achieve.
Their officers are good to work for, and if you demonstrate
your competency to deliver, they respect that. While
the health board is totally risk averse and wants to be
in control, the council appreciates that we can be a
part of the solution to their challenges, and they respect
our contribution.”
Hilda says that an NHS obsession with box-ticking misses
the point about COPE. “What we do is preventative, and
can’t be easily measured,” she says. “But I do know that
in more than 20 years no-one has gone on to complete a
suicide while we have been working with them. If someone
needs to be referred to a specialist, of course we do that.
I am a health professional, and I am always guided by my
nursing ethics.”
The COPE core team is made up of Hilda and
administrator Kathleen, supported by key clinical
associates (trained nurses, specialist counsellors and
therapists, plus a clinical psychologist) who are contracted
to undertake one-to-one therapy sessions and lead
training courses. There are experts teaching mindfulness
and self-management, and community members are
trained in suicide prevention skills.
COPE also equips local people to become community
development associates, volunteers who work to identify
and address issues that affect the areas in which they live.
“We deliver whatever people tell us they’re looking for,
really,” says Hilda. “I describe COPE as being like an onion.
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NURSING AT THE EDGE
Too many people think nurses
only work on wards. But I
believe that to make a real
difference, the streets have to
be our wards.” HILDA CAMPBELL
There’s no core as such, but every layer is important to
make the onion strong. Together, we are making this
community stronger.”
That is a sentiment endorsed by the people who spend
time at COPE’s homely headquarters. Sixty eightyear-old Jim McAteer, for instance, settles clients in to
relaxation rooms where they can recline in a massage
chair and listen to soothing sounds. Eight years ago,
following his mother’s death, four redundancies and two
hip replacements, Jim says he was ‘feeling low’ and his
GP referred him to COPE. “I started down there,” he
says, pointing to the floor. “Now I’m up here, and it’s a
great place to be.
“I see the difference in other people too. Some say it’s
taken them months to pluck up the courage to come in
through these doors. But COPE is run by real people,
and that makes clients feel at ease.”
COPE welcomes men and women of all ages, and offers
support to around 2,000 people each year. Donna
McAllister, who has bipolar disorder, was recommended
to attend by her psychiatrist. “I wish someone had told
me about counselling 20 years ago,” she says. “I’ve had
lots of help here, and it’s boosted my confidence. They
never turn their back on you.”
Now chair of the COPE management committee, Donna
says she’s proud to be able to give something back. “I’ve
never heard anyone say ‘it’s not for me’,” she says. “This
place is for the people, and that’s why they come.”
Elspeth Kerr says she has umpteen health issues,
including diabetes and a double mastectomy. Last
April, feeling suicidal and on antidepressants, her GP
recommended that she call COPE. After seven weeks
of counselling sessions, aromatherapy and massage,
the forty one-year-old mother of two became a
volunteer. “Life has immensely changed for me,” says
Elspeth, who runs COPE’s quilting course. “This time last
year I didn’t think I’d be able to do any of this. Now I’m
going for a job interview.”
Seventeen-year-old daughter Alex credits COPE with
transforming her mother from “very, very angry Mum” to
“mindful Mum”, and now volunteers as well.
For Josie, making the tea in the COPE kitchen, this place
has been part of her life for nineteen years. Suffering
from depression and anxiety, she was referred by her GP.
One-to-one sessions taught her how to manage the panic
and stress that once caused her to flee from shops: “When
I feel it coming on now, I take a deep breath and count to
ten,” she says. “They’ve taught me how to cope.”
Pal Jaynie says: “It’s great to have somewhere you’re
not judged. I’ve no time for health services. Here’s like
part of my family and I’d be lost without them. I’m not
much good one-to-one with strangers. If it wasn’t here,
I’d not be here – and I mean that.”
Barbara, who has agoraphobia, praises the warm welcome
that COPE clients receive. “You can spend three months
waiting on a psychiatrist, or get seen here the same day,”
she says. “You’d not have recognised us when we started.
COPE’s been a life-changer.”
Hilda looks forward to the day when what she does is
recognised as ‘real nursing’. “I would love to have nursing
students on placement here, to show the impact we can
make by working with communities,” she says. “Too many
people think nurses only work on wards. But I believe that to
make a real difference, the streets have to be our wards.”
5
www.rcn.org.uk/nursingattheedge
©ROYAL COLLEGE OF NURSING, 2014
WRITTEN BY PENNIE TAYLOR ∙ PHOTOGRAPHY BY ELAINE LIVINGSTONE
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